Shipwrecked
by Ishkie
Summary: Hermione and Draco are shipwrecked on an empty island without their wands. But is the island so empty after all? Is there some master plan? And will Draco betray her when he's given the choice? Dramione, parts 1 of 3 up.


**A/N: This is also taken from my other account, and also co-written with 'La. It's a three part series, which is why this is so long compared to my other chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize.**

**Shipwrecked**

**Part One**

Hermione frowned slightly as the brisk wind of the harbor whipped her loose brown hair into a frazzled mess. She glanced, a little apprehensively, at the "cruise ship" before her, which would be relatively small by Muggle standards. Of course, Muggles generally needed engines on their ships— and they rarely had conversations with merpeople. This ship's captain was doing just that; she thought he was discussing currents and weather with the spear-toting merchieftan, but she had little grasp of the language, so she didn't know for certain.

Her parents had been very concerned about her appearance, so she had reluctantly slapped a little gel on her hair before she'd left with the Weasleys. She wasn't about to start fussing over her looks; everyone knew she was rather plain, and she took far more pride in her extensive book knowledge than in, say, an extensive lip gloss collection.

The captain finished his conversation and gestured to the small group of wizards and witches waiting on the dock, lowering the gangplank. Mr. Weasley looked very excited, and he murmured something to his wife about the few legal enchantments of Muggle objects. Molly nodded tolerantly, and as a group the Weasleys and Hermione walked up onto the ship, Hermione a little behind. Technically, she knew, this cruise was supposed to be Purebloods only, quite an exclusive deal, but Harry and Ron had refused to leave her out. Speaking of Harry...wherever could he be?

"Excuse me, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione asked, as they passed the captain, who sniffed at the sight of the redheaded family, "isn't Harry supposed to be here?"

Mrs. Weasley peered around at the faces, frowning.

"He isn't here already? Are you sure? Oh, I hope he didn't have any trouble with those Dursleys in getting here. I knew we should have picked him up ourselves," she said, getting more and more frantic. "Ron, have you seen Harry? Wasn't he with you earlier?" Ron shook his head.

"No, I haven't seen him. Hermione, wasn't he with you?" She shook her head too.

"No, I just asked your mum. He better get here soon, I don't want to leave without him." Just as she was speaking a long black car pulled up, and she brightened. "Oh, maybe that's him!" Ron blanched.

"No, I don't think that's the Dursley's car, I actually think it belongs to-"

"Come, Draco!" a cold voice called. Ron hit his head against the side of the boat.

"And it does. Just our luck. Then again, what would a Pureblood cruise be without our favorite Pureblood family?" he asked, looking like he wanted to jump overboard. Hermione sighed as well.

"Well, there's still time for Harry to get here." There was a large buzzing sound.

"That's the three minute warning," Mrs. Weasley said with another frantic look around the dock. "It doesn't look like he's going to make it." They were cut off by a rather loud conversation next to them.

"But father, why aren't you coming?" asked a rather whiney, petulant voice. It was amazing how even a seventeen year old and recently graduated Draco Malfoy could sound like a three year old.

"Because, Draco, I have work to attend to at home. I'm sure you'll find something to amuse yourself, it is filled with the pureblood eli-" Lucius started, but paused mid word when he noticed the Weasleys. "Because there are a few Pureblood elite, and their presence should be enough to overshadow the more-" he sniffed, "-undesirable specimens. I shall see you in three weeks," he said as he stepped off the boat and started striding back toward the car.

Draco muttered as the buzzer sounded again, and the boat started moving. Hermione and Ron looked at each other mournfully; not only had their best friend not made it, but one of their least favorite people had. As if on cue, Malfoy turned to them.

"Muggle and the Weasel, is it?" Ron growled, and Hermione looked around to see if there was an adult nearby to put a stop to this. Graduates or no, she had no doubt they weren't mature enough to talk this out like adults. Unfortunately Mrs. Weasley had left, most likely to find the captain and see if they could go back for Harry.

"Well Malfoy," she said lightheartedly, "At least I don't need to resort to petty name calling. And come now, a _muggle_ got the top score of the year at a _magical_ institution? How does that work?"

"You cheated," he said simply, leaving Hermione gaping like a fish. How dare anyone accuse her of ever cheating?

"Where's Scarboy?" he asked, looking around. "It's not a party until you have an orphan." Ron turned red and clenched his fists, but Hermione just snorted.

"That was just sad, and makes me wonder what kind of parties you're into. Come on, Ron," she said, turning around and walking briskly toward the upper deck. Still muttering, Ron followed.

Draco narrowed his eyes. _Potter isn't here? That ruins the whole plan._

* * *

It was three days later, and Hermione was getting rather sick of Ron. Now that they had graduated and Harry wasn't here, Ron had been following her around like a love struck puppy, trying to be appealing. 

Hermione ducked around a corner when a flash of red hair came in sight, thinking it was him. She'd had enough of his bad compliments, but she didn't have the heart to disappoint him.

"Hermione?" It _was_ him. She sighed, he had clearly seen her.

"Oh, er, hi Ron. I haven't seen you today." He nodded, looking at her strangely.

"You're right, and I haven't seen you either. This boat isn't big, either. It's almost like...no, it couldn't be…" Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She knew he thought she was avoiding him, and truth be told, she was.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said easily, trying to hide her feelings. "But, just maybe, we could spend a day apart? You know, I need some time alone, I'm getting kind of claustrophobic on this little boat…" Ron looked a bit hurt. "It's that time of the month," she added hastily, and he backed away a bit.

"Oh. Oh! Right, of course, I'll just let you be then," he said as he backed further away, turning red. "Do you want me to get you anything?" he asked, but Hermione shook her head.

"No, I'm good. Thank you though," she said, looking more uncomfortable.

"Right…" he said, making a hasty retreat and turning scarlet. Hermione sighed again. She never liked to lie, but his presence was getting oppressive.

Thinking that a bit of salt air might help her clear her thoughts she went up on deck, moving toward the back. She stood there, feeling the wind rush through her hair, when the temperature suddenly dropped. Her eyebrows came together in confusion; she didn't think such a quick temperature change was particularly normal. A few seconds later and dark storm clouds knit themselves into a dark web above them, and the water became choppier.

She looked around, and saw other people looking around in confusion too. A wizard in a bright green rain slicker signifying he was a crew member ran up to the bow, and started muttering while waving his wand about. The storm only got worse. The waves grew higher, the sky darker, and it started to drizzle. The wizard looked about in puzzlement; it was obvious that whatever weather spell he was trying wasn't working.

The only other person she saw on the deck now was Malfoy, who was hastily moving to go below deck. Gripping the railing she started to follow him, not understanding what the rush was. Sure it was a storm, but it couldn't be that bad, could it? They were on a ship full of wizards, for crying out loud. The rain grew in intensity.

Suddenly Malfoy slipped, and Hermione saw a look of complete horror cross his face as he fell. She snorted. It couldn't be that bad; it wasn't like he was going to fall overboard or anything. That was what guardrails were for, after all. Still, the rain was coming down even more harshly, now falling in sheets.

Just as Malfoy was getting up there was a mighty boom, and Hermione fell to the ground too. The boat shook, and a giant wave rocked the boat over on its side. Hermione screamed as she slid quickly toward the edge, the guardrails forgotten. There was another boom, and she saw entire pieces of the boat breaking off.

_Shoddy workmanship_, she thought in the back of her mind right before a large piece of wood came down and knocked her unconscious, and another wave sent her into the ocean.

* * *

Hermione rolled over, hand searching for her pillow. It must have fallen off of her bed during the night, she thought muzzily. It was also very cold...where were her blankets? She opened her eyes, which felt very gummy, and squinted up at the cloudy gray sky. ...Sky? Hermione looked blankly at the bleak, rocky beach for a split second before her last memories returned. The cruise. The storm. The ocean. She coughed, feeling a great deal of mucus already in her throat. She tried, shakily, to stand up - and failed. 

She sat up instead, wincing. It wasn't as though she particularly hurt, but her body was so stiff it was hard to move. Wait, why didn't she hurt? As if on cue a pounding headache started in the back of her head, and she sighed. She supposed she must be numb from cold, and who knew what else. Instead of moving, which she didn't think was a very good idea right now, Hermione looked around at her surroundings.

She was on a rocky beach, which eventually made a steep rise and moved up to some tall green plants. Beyond that she guessed there were trees, but she couldn't see from her sitting position. She sighed again and started trying to stretch out her limbs. At least there was no sharp pain, but then again there wasn't much feeling at all.

After a good fifteen minutes of stretching Hermione was able to stand shakily, though she didn't have much faith in her legs. She coughed up some of the mucus in her throat and took a few wobbly steps, and was encouraged when she didn't fall flat on her face. She was rapidly gaining feeling in her limbs, but she half wished that she wasn't. She was sore all over, which she supposed was the result of being knocked around by a few waves and tossed up on a rocky beach. Then the full force of what had happened hit her.

She could have drowned, and chances are she almost did. She had even lost her wand, and Ron probably didn't have his either...wait, Ron! The Weasleys! Hermione looked around herself rabidly, hoping to catch a glimpse of red hair.

"Ron! Ginny! Mrs. Weasley! Any Weasley!" she screamed before coughing some more. No one answered. She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. Surely they were alright, she had made it to shore, hadn't _she_? They were probably all here too. With that resolve she started walking down the beach, looking everywhere for someone else.

* * *

After about an hour, Hermione was beginning to lose all hope. There wasn't a Weasley in sight, and it seemed like she'd been stumbling along the shore forever. The sun was behind a cloud, so she didn't have its warmth, and her teeth were starting to chatter. Her eyes swept up and down the beach, looking desperately. Was that a wand? No, it was driftwood, of course. She thought she saw a glimpse of red in the distance and began to walk more quickly, almost tripping over a rock in the process. There was something red, she saw, on top of an elongated shape. A log, or maybe it was a person? She hobbled closer. 

Draco Malfoy.

Here she was, stranded on some beach, and the only person in sight was Malfoy? Hermione gritted her teeth and tried to stop tears from springing to her eyes. She glanced at Malfoy again. The red object was a crab. Hermione almost laughed, but then paused. Was Malfoy...dead? She walked up to him. He didn't look like he was breathing. She didn't feel any sense of loss, but stood looking at him blankly and feeling stupid. She prodded his leg with her foot. He didn't move. The crab scuttled onto his face as she poked his arm.

"BLOODY HELL!"

Not dead, Hermione concluded. She didn't know whether she was relieved or not. Malfoy tried to sit up, knocking the crab off his face as he did so. It scurried away behind a large rock.

Draco almost screamed as a pain filled his chest, and he fell back gasping.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this..." he moaned, not even trying to move.

"What wasn't?" Hermione asked, slightly curious. Draco turned his head to look at her, and looked like he was about to cry when he found out who she was.

"The cruise," he said, though it didn't look like that was what he meant to say.

"You're telling me," Hermione muttered. "So.."

"Leave me to die in peace," Draco said dramatically while closing his eyes, and with a shrug Hermione moved to walk away.

"If you like," she said. His eyes snapped open.

"I didn't mean it! Get back here! I can't move!" Hermione rubbed her temples, her headache growing. With a sigh - she realized she had been sighing a lot lately - she moved to sit down next to him.

"What do you expect me to do?" Hermione asked hopelessly. "I don't have a wand, I have little to no medical experience, and I refuse to touch you. I really don't think I can help." Draco looked slightly panicky.

"How can you not be able to help! You're supposed to be smart! Haven't you read a book about this or something?" Hermione shrugged.

"Yes, but-"

"But nothing! Do what Pomfrey does! Ask me what hurts!"

"What hurts?" she asked hollowly.

"Well," he said, "I have this pain in my chest, and it hurts to breathe. I feel like I'm about to vomit-" Hermione edged away from him, "-and I can't shrug." He looked like he was starting to warm up to the subject. "Also, I can't feel either of my legs. Is that normal? And there's a horrible pain in my back." Hermione felt like screaming. Not only could she not find any of the Weasleys, or anyone else, but she was stuck here listening to Draco complain.

"I have no bloody clue what to make of it. All I can guess is that you broke a rib or something, and that you're lying on a rock."

"Well move it!" he yelled at her. Hermione started to stand up. "No! The rock! Move the rock!"

"You know what? No." She stood up and started walking away. "I'm going to try and find Ron." There was a pause, and for a moment she thought he might actually let her go. He probably wasn't that badly injured anyway.

"Please?" he called after her, and she froze. Had he just said please to her? it must be serious.

"Okay," she said as she moved back, "But no more yelling."

_Right_, he thought, _I need you if I want to salvage the plan. Come to think of it I don't want to die, either. _Draco was silent as she sat down next to her again.

"Now, what was it you wanted me to do?" she asked, eyeing him skeptically.

"As I said, move the rock." Draco tried not to be overly rude, but really! He was suffering here, after all. _It won't be easy to be polite to the Mudblood, but it will be worth it in the end,_ he reminded himself. _I can't wait to carry out the betrayal part of the plan. Anyhow, her unclean Muggle hands are better suited to moving dirty objects than mine._

Hermione rolled her eyes. "To move the rock, I have to move you, which I already said I won't do."

"Just pull it out from under me." Draco closed his eyes tragically. "I can't move. It hurts too much."

Hermione doubted this, but she approached Malfoy anyway, studying the situation. She sighed and placed her hands on the edge of the rock where it jutted out from under the former Slytherin. _I don't know why I'm doing this_... She tugged at it halfheartedly; the rock didn't budge. Hermione frowned. With a second, huffier sigh, she tightened her grip and yanked sharply. Draco yelped, but the rock was in her hands.

"What is it now?" Hermione asked crossly.

"You scraped me," Malfoy whined. "Clumsy Mudbl--" he stopped mid-sentence. "I mean...be more careful, would you, Granger?"

"Oh don't bother to be polite," Hermione snapped. She dropped the rock, rather close to Malfoy's head. "We both know you're lying."

_Damn. I hoped she wouldn't notice._ "Lying?" He tried to look insulted but failed, obviously too distracted by the pain. "I'm just trying to...to..."

"To make me let down my guard while you plot something fiendish? Please, Malfoy. Or were you going to say something else?" she asked mockingly. She was in no mood for him, and if he was going to act like this she was going to leave. Whether he could move or not.

"No!" he said hurriedly, hoping that it didn't sound too insincere. Which it was. "I'm just trying to say..." Errr... "I appreciate you helping me." _Like hell I appreciate this. I'm only doing it so I can present your grotesque Mudblood hide to the Dark Lord._ Hermione softened slightly, but she still looked skeptical.

"Since when does Malfoy appreciate anything?"

"Since Malfoy can't move, and the tide's coming in," Draco replied. Hermione looked up sharply. Ho hum, so he was right. "Please help me," he said in a low voice that sounded a bit scared. This he didn't have to work at, he was scared to death that she was just going to leave him to die. But she wouldn't do that, would she?

"Okay," she said, examining the problem. "But I don't know how I'm going to move you if I can't touch you."

_I don't want you to touch me either, your filth could soil my robes_. His robes were already waterlogged, gritty with sand and starting to smell, but she could damage them _worse_. So, instead of saying anything (which would most likely make him more badly off) he just looked up at her with a mournful expression that she could interpret as she would. She sighed.

"Maybe if I can figure out exactly what's wrong with you I can help you move on your own." She wrinkled her nose at the prospect, and picked up a stick that she obviously was going to use to examine him. Draco thought that was slightly offending; he shouldn't be that repulsive to touch. In fact, she should have her hands all over him, it would most likely be the last time she would ever get so near to a perfect pureblood specimen.

"I guess you'll have to play doctor after all," he said, trying not to make it sound snappish. It was very hard work.

Hermione didn't bother to answer that. She poked Malfoy's chest. "Does it hurt here?"

"No."

"Here?" she nudged his arm.

"OH, SH--"

"Yes, yes," Hermione murmured. She repeated the question with his legs, ("No...") ankle, ("IMBECILIC MUGGL--Granger--...person!"), and ribs (insert profanity of your choice). _Impressive. He actually is hurt_. Now she had a real problem. She'd hoped he was faking so she wouldn't have to figure out how she could move him. Yes, he was skinny, and not very muscular, but he was still heavier than her.

She wrung her hands, something she'd never expected to do in her life on account of Malfoy. "If only I had my wand, if only I had my wand..."

"You're supposedly the smartest witch in our year, and you can't think of anything?" Draco muttered. "Pathetic..."

"Do you want me to just drag you?" Hermione asked in frustration. "You think of something! I could leave, and then where would you be?"

"Drowning as the ocean inches closer and closer, finally to fill my lungs with saltwater and toss my body up against the rocks, for you to find and weep over?" Draco barely stopped the smirk.

Hermione sighed. "Weeping...right." She looked speculatively at a flattish piece of driftwood. "Maybe if I can move you onto that, and pull it..." she mused. Did she really want to expend that much energy on Malfoy? He was right, though. She wouldn't want his death on her hands. It was wrong, and it would ruin her record.

After looking back and forth from Malfoy to the driftwood, she realized that would be impossible. Assuming she could actually get him onto it, which was doubtful, she would still need to drag it up past the tide line.

"Hmm…" she muttered, looking around for something else that she could potentially use to move him.

"'Hmm' what?" he asked, feeling the faintest traces of panic.

"I can't think of anything," she announced. Well, she _could_, but she would tell him her idea after he begged a bit. It was only so often that she was in a position to make Malfoy beg.

Malfoy took a deep breath. More like he tried to, that is, his breath hitched and he started coughing. Hermione waited patiently for him to stop, but he didn't. He just kept coughing, looking very pitiful indeed.

"Can't…breathe…" he wheezed, his eyes tearing up slightly.

"Take a small breath," Hermione ordered, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. She had no idea if this would work, but decided she might as well try. While Hermione realised she was breaking her 'no touching' rule, this was probably more important. Whatever she said, she really didn't want him to die. And if he did have a broken rib than his coughing could puncture a lung, and then where would she be?

After a few moments he calmed down, and Hermione relaxed.

"Look, Malfoy…" He looked up at her, without trying to speak. "I can't move you completely by myself; you're going to have to do some of the work. If I helped you up, do you think that you could walk if I supported you? You're too heavy for me to carry." He looked like he was thinking, and then nodded. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good. Now, up you get…" She threaded her arm around the back of his neck, helping him into a sitting position. He still wasn't talking, and really looked like he was going to be sick.

"Okay, that's a start," she said as she panted slightly. He really _was_ heavier than he looked. From there she looped his arm over her shoulders and began to stand up, and he almost screamed in pain.

"No! No, not that side," he said through clenched teeth. Hermione nodded and moved around to his other side, putting his other arm around her.

"Ready?" she asked. He nodded. "Okay, here we go…" She stood up shakily, her own legs still not up to full strength.

After quite a bit of moaning and wincing in which Hermione almost dropped Malfoy twice -once accidentally and once on purpose-, they managed to make it to a standing position. By this time the water was almost lapping at their feet, and Hermione eyed it with distaste. _Just as long as Ron and the rest of the Weasleys are alright…And the other people on the cruise, of course. Please let them be okay._

**A/N: I'm not sure what the secondary genre should be, there's going to be drama and such but there's an awful lot of humor, too. I suppose it's just drama-humor. Oh well...tell me if you like it, in a REVIEW! **

**Also, this'll probably take a while to update because I need to get 'La on board.**


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